Rage
by Ophelia Joane
Summary: It's Draco's turn to get back at his father, so what does he do? Why, sabotage the enemy of course.


_Written for Season 3 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition by Beater 1 of the Appleby Arrows._

 _Prompts:_

 _emotion: anger_

 _(word) overwhelmed_

 _(quote) 'Your intellect may be confused, but your emotions will never lie to you' - Roger Ebert_

 _(word) tranquil_

 _A/N: This idea came from something I saw on tumblr, and you'll notice Draco is a bit more OOC than usual..._

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

"It's all quite fascinating, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Draco drawled. He didn't want to be there, and he especially didn't want to be stuck with the nerd that had pounced on him the moment he had arrived, asking about the Malfoy traditions and customs. Now he was talking about the fine line between using brains and the heart to make decisions, though he wasn't sure as Draco had given up listening a half hour beforehand. His father had given him a task to do and although he hated his father Draco would rather get it done and go home.

"You know, your intellect may be confused, but your emotions will never lie to you," the geeky boy said, sliding his glasses up his nose.

"Mhmm," Draco responded, trying to not roll his eyes at that statement. He had been raised to think the exact opposite. "Oh look, it looks like Lockhart has finally started," he said instead and watched as the boy's face lit up and he rushed out of their, waving goodbye.

Now all Draco was left with were hundreds of books and his emotions.

The fury. The rage.

It ran in the family, coming from years of prejudice and feeling superior against others, then being outraged when they started fighting back. And oh how the strong ones always fought back.

However, he wasn't taught that. No, _no_ , he was taught that those who fought back were the ones who were weak, the ones that needed to be squashed like a bug. It was beat into him by the time he was a toddler, the scars hidden and always being a constant reminder of that lesson.

It was expected of him to be the perfect, pure-blooded child. Just like it was expected of his father, and would be expected of his son. It was with that knowledge that made the hatred Draco Malfoy held for his family even stronger.

He glared as he saw the Weasleys all hustle in Flourish & Blotts, where he currently was. Another look downstairs and he saw Harry Potter as well as Hermione Granger pulling her muggle parents through the crowd. Draco raised an eyebrow at seeing them. Though Granger probably had no clue, it was still a big deal to bring muggles into Diagon Alley.

He gazed his eyes across the room once more and was met with his father's identical piercing stare, reminding him of what he was really up there to do. He groaned internally and made his way through the different stacks of books he was supposed to sort through as Gilderoy Lockhart did his signing. He felt overwhelmed, but he picked up the book on top and traced his fingers over the spine.

 _Dangerous Beasts_ by Gillian Maxstoff.

He flipped through it, irritated, not finding anything that was pertaining to his mission: finding anything and everything about basilisks and getting rid of any page with the information. So far, he had found nothing. It didn't surprise him since basilisks were considered to be non-existent anyways - and when a magical wizarding community thought something to be a myth, then it wasn't questioned.

They were wrong, though, because as Draco's father had told him, there was at least one basilisk in the world.

And it was at Hogwarts.

Draco's hands clenched and unclenched thinking about it. _Of course_ there would be a mudblood-hating snake roaming around the corridors, as if he didn't have enough to worry about as it was. He had thought (and was still convinced) that his father had finally lost it when he had told him, after so many years of chasing every lead there was about the Dark Lord. What kind of person would keep a giant, killer snake in the school anyways?

Well, the Slytherin of all Slytherins apparently would. In a secret chamber he hid in the school.

"Draco."

Draco snapped out of his thoughts, looking at his father who had come upstairs. For now, it was only the two of them up there, as everyone else was fawning over the fake hero downstairs. Putting the book in his hands down, he stood a little straighter. "Yes, father?"

"What have you found?"

"Nothing, sir."

Lucius snarled. "Nothing? What have you been doing up here, twiddling your thumbs? Get moving, boy!" He made to raise his hand, then decided against it and instead moved closer to Draco. "We don't want another repeat of last night, do we?"

Draco was fuming. "No, sir," he forced out, thinking back on the previous night's events. He had questioned his father on whether or not this plan was even a good idea, and questioning his father always led to punishment.

It was quite ironic, really. He was trying to save lives, even mudbloods, and in return was the one that was punished. His family was so screwed up.

He and his father had a mini stare contest, which Lucius won when Draco could no longer look him in the eye. A cold-blooded murderer out for revenge was all he was. To think Draco used to admire him was baffling. Draco's gaze was on the stacks of books on the stairwell, and he froze as he eyed something. Trying not to attract his father's attention to it, he bowed his head.

"Wrap this up. We don't have the time to be wasted, you know I have an order of broomsticks I need to place for you," Lucius's said as his demeanor changed. He clapped Draco on the back and turned to leave, taking his sweet time descending the stairs. When he got to the bottom and disappeared from sight, Draco let out a shaky breath. He quickly followed in his father's steps and found what had caught his eyes only seconds earlier.

 _Magical Creatures and Other Myths_ by Gregory Hord.

He gulped and scoured through the book, looking up to see Hermione, Harry, and the other Weasleys make to leave. Glancing back down he saw what he needed -information about the basilisk. He quickly ripped the page out of the book and put it in his pocket, not sure what to do with it. He could probably give it to his father when they were done or...

Or not give it to him at all.

Draco walked towards the huge group by the door, sneer on his face. However, inside all he was thinking about was getting back at his father, even if he never knew about it. It would be simple and his father would never find out.

Smirking, he went to go introduce himself to the youngest Weasley.

 _Nine months later..._

"Hey Draco?"

"Yes, Goyle?"

"Uh... what book you got there?"

Draco sighed. His dim-witted friend had been annoying him for the last hour, obviously not knowing how to deal with the silence that came with being in the library. "It's called _Rarities of the Magical World_."

"Oh. Nice."

Draco rolled his eyes. Truthfully, he was just waiting for Goyle to leave so he could get on with his plan. "Goyle, why don't you go and find Crabbe. Talk to him about... well whatever you two talk about."

Goyle nodded. "Sure, okay. See you then," he could not get out of the library fast enough.

Draco wasn't paying attention, instead his gaze was directed to the bushy haired girl in the corner, one hand furiously flipping pages and the other holding a mirror which she glanced into every few seconds. He thought it was an odd and creative way to avoid dying from the basilisk's stare.

He waited until she got up, being very cautious, and tiptoed his way to where she had been sitting. It was clear now, save for her bag, as she had went to put other books away. Reaching into his pocket, he took out a crumpled up piece of paper and a random book on the shelf that was closest to him. Draco opened it and flattened (as much as he could) the paper into it.

He heard Hermione's voice nearby, talking to Penelope Clearwater, and rushed to go. He paused, however, and with a sudden thought he opened the book back up and used his wand to write a word on the page.

 _Pipes._

Draco smirked, rushing to his table for his things. He picked them up with one scoop and walked out of the library. Finally, after so many months of having to deal with people accusing him of the Heir of Slytherin and his father having his 'friends' watch over him like a hawk, he had done it. He had sabotaged them all.

Though he was filled with hatred, Draco had gotten his revenge and for the first time in a long time, he also felt a bit tranquil.


End file.
